Perpetuum mobile can be defined in many ways. My new favorite classification is “Perpetuum Mobile” by Penguin Café Orchestra (iTMS). It is one of the most beautiful pieces of music that I have ever earned the pleasure of happening upon.
The band gleaned the title of this song from the compositional technique of perpetuum mobile (Latin), moto perpetuo (Italian), perpetual motion (English). I will hereafter refer to the song by Penguin Café Orchestra as “Perpetuum Mobile”, and the musical term as “moto perpetuo” in order to avoid confusion and redundant clarification. As one could gather through hearing the song, the moto perpetuo technique features a “continuous steady stream of notes, usually at a rapid tempo” (wikipedia - perpetuum mobile).
“Perpetuum Mobile” happens to feature moto perpetuo in regard to song technique and also with the composition. When a song is composed moto perpetuo, a piece of the music is repeated without a halt in the melody. Thus, the song may sound as if it goes on for a length of time that for exceeds the length of the repeated section - it may have been repeated any number of times. A repetition may change in pitch or tempo, as “Perpetuum Mobile” explicates.
Do try “Perpetuum Mobile”. It is beautiful. You can purchase the sheet music; it is available through the collection “Numbers 1–4 and other pieces”. It is available via Penguin Café Orchestra’s shopping site (currency in pounds) or Edition Peters (currency also in pounds). I have been unable to locate an American source to avoid importing and currency exchange and exploded prices, so anyone finding one - please, leave a comment.
In addition to her brilliant photography, one of my Flickr contacts is also a brilliant clay animator.
This animation is extra-special, as it is based off audio from a real-life conversation between her two boys, aged 4 and 6 at the time, incredibly, incredibly enriched by their imagined world.
This cat is an absolute master of video editing. This Austrian Norwegian fellow can play neither drums nor piano, but makes a mean song out of timeline editing.
His drums & piano duet, “Amateur“, is a new favorite on my playlist.
Via Kottke.
Edit: I didn’t see how to post youtube videos before. Now it’s posted here as well.
Burning a CD, I suddenly receive a warning: my burner has had an error.
I extract the disc, scratching my head. I look to see how much was burned. I discover a gnat, sliced by the laser of my burner! Note the skid path the gnat endured, from the middle of the disc and then resting where the burner quit writing (as it could not write beyond the gnat’s carcass).
This is one of the oddest computer related issues that I have personally encountered. Hysterical.
What a brilliant way to organize your books. Organizing by color certainly does increase the aesthetic value of the bookshelf. The books then have not only literary value, but visual art as well.
I really want some new technology. I keep rolling about in my head what to purchase, and keep buying nothing.
The possibilities lie in an iPod, a digital SLR, a powerbook (er, MacBook), or a new desktop.
Since I keep hearing rumors of an April firstish release, I shall refrain from the delineation of my innermost conflagrations of thought. I shall “wait and see” until next week.
This whole Windows running on Intel Macs is so uber-rock, I can barely contain myself.
Honestly, I’m mildly troubled. I do watch American Idol, and Taylor Hicks’ rendition of Ray LaMontagne’s “Trouble” brought me to reflect on how my ever-shrinking hard drive does not have that album ripped to my iTunes. For a quick fix, I check the music store. I note that there are two additional releases by LaMontagne for sale on the site.
This is nice, but I am very much a tangible type person. I like buying CDs, I like buying books. I like having them. I like to print off my reading material from the computer. I prefer a literal datebook versus a PDA. I keep a pen and paper address book. This whole digital conundrum, where I literally cannot purchase a physical disc, troubles me (with no pun intended to Mr. LaMontagne). It feels so much like I don’t actually have it.
But I would rather have this digital means of existence than no existence at all. Thus, I stop complaining.
